One step at a time

One step at a time. A simple phrase, but one which takes on greater meaning when you’re somewhere on an 800-km trek from the Pyrenees to Galicia, Spain. One step at a time. That’s the only way you can accomplish such a challenging journey, to keep putting one foot in front of the other no matter what weather conditions you face and whatever physical or emotional baggage is weighing you down. One step at a time. This is one of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned.

between Hontanas to Boadilla del Caminoon the Camino de Santiago

between Hontanas to Boadilla del Camino

One year ago today, I began this pilgrimage from St.-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Santiago de Compostela. I take a look back and memories flash through my mind, some like blinding lightning, others like a slow-motion replay of a sports highlight. Many memories will forever remain vivid, while I guiltily acknowledge that some are already fading, and might disappear with the passage of more time…

But I will remember to take life one step at a time. And with each step, attempt to recognize what makes life so mysterious yet gratifying, be appreciative of every breath, every foot forward, every person that shares my journey, and every person that almost inexplicably appears with an almost inexplicable precision when I need a reprieve from my solitude.

The Camino also taught me that the path – my camino – that I walk must be my own. I must walk at my own pace, not be afraid to take alternate routes, and always listen to my body, mind, and soul. I can’t live for the wishes and expectations of others and place their dreams in front of mine, no matter how good-intentioned they may be. I know it sounds incredibly selfish, but that path won’t create happiness and ultimately the person who ends up hurt is myself.

I believe I am still on a pilgrimage and that I continue to walk my camino. In fact, it’s an often arduous journey and the road looks like it never ends. But I can say that if there’s a destination, I’m closer to getting there today because of my experiences last year.

One year ago…

“It is only with one’s heart that one can see clearly. What is essential is invisible to the eye.” Excerpt from Le Petit Prince.

One year ago today (1 May), I left home in Canada to embark on my journey of journeys. I learned early on to follow my heart and resolved to follow my own path and not be confined to live a certain way based on perceived norms of society.

314 days out of the last year and 30 countries later, I’m still going strong and continue to be astounded that what was for so long only a dream continues to be my reality.

It’s been a veritable roller coaster, often fun and funny and at times downright terrifying, but one where I’ve dictated where to go and allowed myself to ascend to new heights, not to mention overcoming some very low times. From the outset, I already knew that it was going to be awesome. But I could not possibly have predicted the specific encounters I’d come across that truly showed me how magical life could be. With a strange precision, my path has often converged with others who have shared part of my journey, even if sometimes only for a fleeting instant.

What beauty that I’ve met people who have given me such positivity, new ideas, love and warmth, hospitality and generosity to degrees I don’t deserve. Invisible and intangible, they fill my heart.

Tribute to my trekking boots, tribute to Nepal

Three nights ago, walking down the streets of Thamel in Kathmandu, I made one of the most difficult decisions I’ve had to make during my travels. After much deliberation, I decided to leave behind my trekking boots in Nepal. It’s something that I didn’t do lightly – these shoes had tremendous practical value for me as a hiker, and even more sentimental value – they’d taken me 800 km across Spain; I’d climbed 4 volcanoes in Nicaragua with them; I’d gone hiking in the Alps, the Caucasus, and the Himalayas with them sheltering my feet and guiding me through shaky and solid ground. I’d climbed more mountains than I can count with these buddies. But after almost a year of wearing them so often, the traction had really faded, they were no longer really waterproof, and they just looked really beat up. On a couple other practical notes, they would have taken a lot of space in my backpack and I wasn’t intent on wearing them through humid Southeast Asia in the months ahead every time I’d be moving from place to place. And so I left them at the hostel. Incidentally, I met a Thai girl during my last days in Kathmandu who intended on trekking to Annapurna Base Camp and needed a pair of boots, and (strangely enough) mine looked like a good fit for her. So it looks like my boots will continue to go hiking in Nepal 🙂

I feel like these boots were, and still are, a part of me and that they belong on my feet, or at least in my backpack, and that I left a piece of myself behind in Nepal (and you don’t have to tell me how silly that sounds – I know). At the same time, perhaps there’s a nice symbolism behind it. I’m sacrificing a part of myself as a traveller and a trekker. It’s like I’m paying homage or tribute to Nepal by leaving something so important to me behind, and it’s like a part of me is still in Nepal. I think it’s a nice sentiment because I really didn’t want to leave last night on the flight for Hong Kong, and right now I wish I was back in crazy Kathmandu, relaxing Pokhara, or hiking in the Annapurna Conservation Area. For reasons that I can’t fully explain in this post, Nepal has given me so much love, peace, strength, courage, determination, friendship, warmth, generosity, hospitality…the list goes on.

Kathmandu street scene

Kathmandu street scene

Nepal left such a wonderful impression on me. In fact, of all the places I’ve been on my travels, I can say that Nepal is the place I’ve been touched the most. I don’t even know where to begin and don’t think I can adequately describe the simultaneous joy that fills my heart when I recall all my experiences the past month, and the melancholy I feel because I’m no longer there. After visiting Sri Lanka, I told other travellers that I felt like royalty, being the object of so much attention and stares, and the recipient of so much generosity and hospitality. In Nepal, I blended in so much that Nepalis often thought I was a fellow countryman, but I received just as much hospitality and affection. People treated me as a friend and even like family. Despite the blackouts, frequent lack of water (hot and cold), the crippling traffic, the bumpy bus rides, the suffocating smog of the cities, the blowing dust…I often felt truly at home.

Machhapuchchhre‎, Annapurna Conservation Area

Machhapuchchhre‎, Annapurna Conservation Area

Just a few examples from yesterday alone: I was passing by a shop that I’d bought a jacket from earlier in the week, and waved at the shopkeepers. They returned the greeting and invited me to take a break and chat for awhile, and we talked for what might have been close to half an hour about life in Canada, life in Nepal, and the different people we’ve come in contact with. There was no pressure to buy anything else from their shop and they were quite impressed when I listed the countries I’d been to the last six years! Later on, I met up with some friends I’d met at the hostel and their Nepali friends, and we walked to Basantapur to watch the festivities of Ram Navami. They were so welcoming and hospitable, recounting some of the history of the exquisite temples that formed part of the Durbar Square complex. They were interested in my travels as well and wanted to know what I liked about Nepal the most. And when I was back at the hostel, ready to go the airport, the staff asked me if I had a taxi yet and when I said that I didn’t, fetched a taxi from the main street to the front door of the hostel, and negotiated a fair price. These are reasons reflective of why since my first day in Nepal, I knew that I’d make a return visit. That sentiment is even more true today. I’m so grateful that I made plans to come to this amazing country renowned worldwide for the Himalayas but for me, is distinguished by the unmatched warmth of its people.

So there’s my tribute to Nepal. And now, I’d like to take this time to pay tribute to these awesome pair of shoes. With fondness, I remember the mountains I’ve ascended, the trails I’ve gotten lost in, the cities I’ve navigated, and all the animal excrements that I’ve stepped on in them – be it from cows, horses, chickens, dogs, sheep, goats, yaks…With a sad resignation, I let go…

trekking boots - goodbye :(

trekking boots – goodbye 😦

The most important thing I’ve learned

As a traveller, the most significant thing I get annoyed at is seeing how many tourists behave with an air of superiority and treat locals condescendingly and with disdain. Perhaps they think that because they come from somewhere more “advanced,” more “developed,” or more “modern,” they have the right to look down on people from other cultures which are, in their eyes, less advanced, less developed, and less modern. I’ve seen people flaunt how much money they have and think that their monetary wealth should command them better treatment. It’s very off-putting to witness this.

Similarly, I find it baffling when tourists just want to get to a famous site or partake in the “must-do” thing without regard for interacting with the local population. Why travel such a long way and not take any interest in the people of the country you’re visiting?

You know, we’re over 7 billion people living in this world and sharing its beauty, and we tend to focus on our differences. Everything from religion, language, nationality, ethnicity, sex, sexual orientation, skin colour, facial structure, educational level, occupation, income level, ways of life, cultural practices, societal norms – the list goes on endlessly – all these have been used to create division and prevent meaningful relationships between us from being formed.

I’ve travelled to 42 countries the past few years, mostly on my own, and the most profound memories I have are the truly wonderful interactions I’ve had with people from all walks of life. The most important lesson I’ve learned is that when I look into the eyes of another human being, despite all the (perceived) factors that may create distance between us, there is a common, undeniable bond in our humanity – and that’s reason enough to treat the other person with dignity and respect. I keep in mind that I’m looking into a pair of eyes of a fellow human, whose heart beats with just as much strength and passion as mine, a fellow human being who also loves, hopes, dreams, fears, doubts, wonders…

I’ve been the recipient of dignity and respect countless instances in my travels. I’ve been afforded immense hospitality and generosity from people of all religions and skin colours, people who spoke languages I did not understand, people who wore designer clothes and people who wore rags, people with PhDs and people who have likely never set foot in a classroom, perfectly healthy people and people who have likely never received any health care, people who live in grand mansions and people who live in modest shacks.

I’ve spoken to a 91-year old woman in Nicaragua who lived on her own in a shack at the base of a volcano. I was offered multiple helpings of sliced fruit from an elderly woman on a train in Taiwan. I was given very exact directions to the airport by a nearly toothless man standing in front of the bus I’d be taking in Sri Lanka. I had a taxi driver in Georgia take me to a secluded monastery and proceeded to give me a full tour of the complex – in Russian! I was received with an encouraging welcome by a fellow hiker when I reached the top of one of the Alps in Austria after hiking up with a GI infection. I’ve been the object of many photographs taken in Armenia. I’ve been lost more times than I can count and have found my way, usually because a local took it upon himself or herself to help this foreigner out. Most recently, on my 9-day trek to the Annapurna Sanctuary, I was befriended by more than a handful of porters that took an interest in me when they saw I was trekking alone.

It’s astounding how much love and goodwill there is in our world when you take a chance and open up. Don’t let our perceived differences unknowingly create a self-imposed barrier and prevent you from interacting with some great people in this world. You might even end up counting some of these people as your friends.

Irreplicable feeling

After a shuttle bus, two flights interrupted by a six-hour layover and a double espresso, a tricycle ride, a non-airconditioned bus, and another tricycle ride, and thanks to co-conspirators – my mom, Tita Cheryl, and Ate Rose, I arrived in my Lolo and Lola’s hometown in Cuartero, Capiz (Panay Island, Visayas) in the Philippines on Tuesday afternoon and surprised my grandparents with my unexpected visit at their front door! (They thought I was in Japan and had no clue that I’d be there – my Lolo took a bit of time figuring out it was me!)

Passing through the provincial highway from the city, evidence of Typhoon Yolanda’s destruction back in November is very much apparent. The floods have long subsided but there remains downed power lines, fallen trees, rubble dotting the side of the road, homes made of bamboo and wood that have gone through various degrees of devastation. Reconstruction is under way. Amidst all this – smiles and laughter, compassion and generosity, strength and a resolve to keep going, resilience of the human spirit.

And still, I can honestly say that I don’t remember seeing my land this green and this beautiful when I left it last. I’ve been to 40 countries the past 5 years, but it was a truly unique and special feeling stepping onto the tarmac in Manila’s airport, and later in Roxas, after almost 5 years of absence. This is the land that brought up my family, gave me so much of my culture and my traditions, so much of what I value and cherish. And although no place in the world is perfect and I appreciate being able to see life from different perspectives having grown up in Canada and travelling so much, there will always be this special feeling coming back here that can’t be replicated by setting foot in another country.

Today, I celebrate my Lolo’s 84th birthday with lots of good food and even better company. He’s so much of the reason I have so much love and respect for my homeland. If I live long enough to be his age, I can only hope to have half of his virtue…

Land of the rising sun, land of contradictions

I’ve often been to places and have thought to myself that what I’m seeing is so contradictory and perplexing, but after my time in Japan I think I’m willing to say that nowhere have I set foot in this world that this contradiction is so strikingly apparent. And this is precisely what I have loved about my time here. Every interaction and experience piques my curiosity and has me attempting to rationalize why things are they way they are, at least to eyes that were raised in the Western world. All at once, at least on the surface, Japan is modern and traditional, familiar and foreign, logical and incomprehensible, orderly and chaotic, flashy and subtle, flamboyant and reserved, friendly and distant, superficial and inward.

modern and traditional Tokyo

modern and traditional Tokyo

I can’t wait until I get back to Osaka in February and continue, likely without much success, to figure it all out…

The lowdown

One of my resolutions for the New Year was to blog more often, and write even more. I’ve been doing quick, usually daily Facebook posts but as you can see, nothing on this site yet this year. Until now. For me, I’ll take this as a big challenge to recount a bit of where I am, where I’m going, and where I’ve been; what I’ve felt and what’s lifted my spirits; the not-so-glamorous things about travel, especially solo travel, and especially long-term solo travel; and really most profoundly, why I continue to travel and my reasons and motivations behind it.

Many have asked me about this trip, so let me just lay down the essentials in this post:

Who: Me! And the friends and family I’m meeting up with. And the people with whom I’ve yet to interact that will leave a lasting impact on me, and some that I’ll come to call as friends.

What: A trip around the world! In paper at least, I’ve left North America for the Pacific Rim of Asia, and will be making my way to points in South and Southeast Asia before making my way to Europe and arriving back in North America.

Where: Japan, Taiwan, the Philippines, Singapore, Malaysia, Sri Lanka, Nepal for sure. Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Myanmar, Hong Kong in semi-planning stages. In Europe, I’m supposed to land in Romania, but have also set my sights on Bulgaria, Greece, Albania, Kosovo, Moldova, Ukraine, the Netherlands, Ireland, Spain, and Italy. At this point, the European leg of this journey is quite undefined and will be content to focus on just a few of these countries.

When: From the second week of January currently until the first week of October, 2014! That’ll be almost 9 months of travelling! In reality, that’s just the dates on my airfare that I’m somewhat willing to change, really depending on money and future motivation.

How: Planes, trains, buses, walking, ???

Why: Before setting out last May for Europe, I’d gone through a tough time of challenges, internal debates, and difficult decisions that were tempered with occasional personal triumphs and achievements. At the time, I was working full-time without a high prospect of longer-term travel which was what I had increasingly aspired to in the years prior. Simply put, travel invigorates and inspires me like nothing else. It’s the unbeatable combination of being in a foreign land, not knowing exactly where you are or how to get where you’re going but with a resigned confidence that all will work out in the end, interacting with people in this world that you would otherwise not meet in your daily routine back home, arriving at spectacular landscapes, feeling serenity during a hike, going somewhere you’ve never heard of and being amidst indescribable beauty, and the unique realization that not everything in this world is generic and you don’t have to live your life within the perceived confines of societal norms if you don’t want to.

So there you have it. Or some of it, at least! I’m currently in Japan, on just the 8th day of my journey. Follow me, or better yet, join me somewhere!